Saturday, June 5, 2010

Come on creativity let's go - it's been a while and Dive has a fabulous sentence to keep this story pumping!

xo ~ Adonia

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Part V: Perry

The drive with Claire wasn't the healthiest - with the cigarette smoke going up my nostrils, the car was full of smoke and ashes. It didn't help that she refused to put the windows down.

"My hair honey", she shouted, "the wind will wreck all the work I've done to it, so keep those damn windows up".

As I drove I pondered where exactly to take her, Hollywood was out of the question, we live in Kansas for Christ-sake. The best place would be where I met her, at my boy Jake’s house. They knew her and would know how to help, shit; I didn't even know what was wrong with her. Alzheimer’s? Or just craziness? Hopefully it wasn't the chocolate, I ate some too.

I got off highway 74 into Craig’s Town; I was heading to the Pearson’s house. An hour of silence passed when Claire woke up shouting, "Oh no, not you, I hate those pink feathers of yours, they make me sneeze, go away please".

There wasn't really much in Craig's Town, the place looked like a scene out of an old western, tumble weeds and boarded up buildings. As I continued driving I spotted a sign "Hospital Half mile ahead". Thank goodness, life lies ahead.

Son of Christ Hospital ~ The Nun’s Welcome You” the sign read. “Claire wake up, we need to stretch, go to the bath room and grab a bite to eat”, I demanded.

“Ok”, replied Claire, “I sure could use a stretch, you go on in, and I’m right behind you. I’m old now, so it takes me a tad bit longer to get my body parts moving,” she said pleasantly.

I drove quickly through the lot, parked the car in the closet spot, turned off the ignition, yanked out the keys, and hurried inside, mother nature was calling.

Tap! Tap! Bang! Bang! Sounds were coming from the trunk. Claire jumped out and popped open the trunk. “Perry Baby” she shrieked, “what a pleasant surprise, I had a feeling you weren’t going to let me travel alone, be careful not to let Honey see or hear you”.

“Claire”, Perry said hesitantly, “Stephen came along too; he didn’t want to be left behind”. Stephen’s head poked out from behind Perry.

“Hi, err, hello, Claire, um, yeah, how are you?” stuttered Stephen.

“What the hell?” questioned Claire.

“I um need to go inside Perry, the circulation in my err legs hurt, I need something from inside, could you move, I, um, oh, yea, I need, I want to get out”, said Stephen.

With Claire’s help, Perry was able to move out of Stephen’s way easily like a yoga master.

“Hurry now, there’s no telling when Adonia will be back”.

So into the hospital rushed Stephen. While Perry waited in the car, he had gone into the hospital to try and buy a pair of black stockings from a nun.

Claire waited patiently for Stephen to hurry back to stuff him back into the trunk.

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Part IV: Haddy C. McPherson

Where does one begin when telling Mrs. McPherson’s story? When she and I first met it wasn’t her hat or her bright pink toe nails that drew me in to want to know more about her. There was something familiar about her that was more than the coincidence of Sunshine Valley Nursing Home.

Months after that Christmas day, I was visiting my dad, when I heard and an all too familiar chuckle coming out of the cafeteria. I popped my head in to see, it was Mrs. McPherson playing black jack with a bunch of other “Mrs. McPherson’s”. I tried to pop my head out quickly, as to not catch her eye, but failed at the task.

“Hey Missy, I remember you from Christmas. You’re visiting with your dad huh?" "Come over here and sit next to me, watch me whop these heffer’s at black jack.” I hesitantly did as she requested. I watched and listened as they played. They told stories of when they were young, the boys they dated, and the men they married. Many felt alone and forgotten, other’s felt overwhelmed by all the attention. But Mrs. McPherson’s story was the most exciting. She spoke of the the ‘good ole days and her popularity in the 60’s. She wore miniskirts, well hair sprayed hair, and flashy shoes. She was a sight for sore eyes back then she said.

“I was a model you know Missy”, she told me; “I was in all the magazines and even in a couple of movies, nothing big to most folks, but gigantic to me”.

“Haddy was just not a glamorous name for Hollywood Missy, so I went by Claire, just Claire, no last name needed with a name like Claire. Oh yes that’s right Missy, Claire was my name back then, a name that means famous and bright, like a star, like me!” When I was young, I went to parties, drank and smoked. It was the thing to do to get noticed in Hollywood.

Every time I went to visit my dad, I would visit her, but with each visit I noticed a change in her that I could never quite figure out. One day however, things got weird.
“Looking for Haddy?” the nurse asked, “she said you were taking her out for a nice long ride, check outside, she’s probably waiting for you there, have fun.”

Taking her for a ride? I went outside and found her sitting in my car with a cigarette in hand.

“Mrs. McPherson is everything ok?” I asked. She snarled back at me, “Honey, my name is Claire, just Claire and don’t you ever forget that. Don’t call me that name anymore Honey. Hollywood called; we’ve got to go now.”

I got into my car and drove off; I certainly wasn’t taking her to Hollywood, maybe to my boy Jake’s house. As I drove, Claire chain-smoked and drummed her nails on the dashboard. She sat very quietly, just staring out the window and smoking.

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Part III: My Boy Jake

Jake surely startled me, whispering the word death and all. How would he know such a word? He's a little guy; heck, he's my boy, my boy Jake, odd, but my boy whom I love dearly.

When Jake and I first met, it was definitely love at first sight. It felt right being with him and his family. It felt like we had known each other all our lives. If I believed in reincarnation, I would attribute the feeling to that. Tending to Jake's needs while completing my school work has been very easy. Jake's not only adorable, but so easy to be with. He's my version of the perfect little boy - doesn't whine, doesn't cry unnecessarily, pleasant, those blue eyes of his, helps the cause of loving him so much easier.

Yes, I described Jake as being odd, you caught that I see. Well he is, the more I get to know him, the more I realized how oddly amazing he is. I mean Jake can see things we can't see. Not ghosts or creepy things like that, it's as if he has been here before and he's just passing back through, perhaps on a mission. I think the old folks, like Ms. Haddy would describe him as having an "old soul".

I remember the story Susan and Mr. Pearson told me about why they moved to this town, and not somewhere more populated, it had everything to do with Jake. It was if they were protecting him from something, or maybe someone.

They chose the right little town that had the right house, with the right neighbors and schools. The town was strangely too perfect, unlike them, and certainly unlike Jake. One certainly can't go unnoticed in this town. In fact, when you stand in any doorway and look out around you, you see nothing but gray prairie on every side. Kinda like visiting Dorothy, but in color not black and white. "Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached the edge of the sky in all directions" - yep that's the place my boy Jake, Susan, Mr. Pearson's and I call home.

The more I think about it, how strange is it that the Pearson's don't talk much about Jake's birth. They don't have many pictures of him. I thought all families loved pictures.

The Pearson's often tell the story of the tornado that came down their street one spring. Jake had been outside playing on his swing set when the wind picked up. Jake must've found the sound the wind makes intriguing and wandered off in search of the source from which the wind started. The Pearson's said that it was the most frightening experience, having to take shelter without him. When the tornado passed over, the Pearson's were startled to find him swinging on his swing set, untouched and not a hair out of place. "The nice lady protected me with her pink feathers, Mama and Papa".

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Friday, March 19, 2010

Part II: The Pearsons

The Pearson’s became my second set of parents when I was a freshman in college. I had found their ad hanging in the student union, that they needed a baby sitter for their son Jake. I jumped at the chance to earn some extra money. Jake and the Pearson's liked me from day one – and the feeling was mutual. Mrs. Pearson, or Susan as she preferred to be called, had always been rail thin, she attributed it to all the running she did. She like her husband was a doctor, working at the infirmary at my school. Mr. Pearson had his own private practice. He was a round man, with a brush over like Donald Trump. And then there was my boy Jake. With his bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes, his rosy cheeks looked like apples fresh from the tree. He was the most adorable baby, and had grown into a handsome little 1st grader. I never really understood why the Pearson’s never had more children. The house they lived in was massive, far too much space for the three of them.

The holidays were always spectacular. Susan always did her own decorating even though Mr. Pearson insisted that they hire someone. Susan insisted that hiring someone would take the fun out of Christmas, and would take away from her own personal touches. I think Susan ignoring Mr. Pearson’s wishes to hire a decorator disturbed him. He always had the need to control everything and everyone around them.

The Pearson’s always had the biggest tree and the brightest decorations ever – however two years ago a fire broke out in their attic, and all the decorations were destroyed, Susan never was the same after that. She said that there were treasures up there from her parents and grandparents; things that could never be replaced. Every year since then, Christmas was just a little bit different, not as many decorations and the lights not as bright. The outside lights that wrapped the house and the trees that lined the driveway were no longer lit.

I was always invited over; I brought Susan and Mr. Pearson gifts and far too many for my boy Jake. They were always good to me and treated me like their own. But every year since that fire, things just seemed different, and this Christmas was the icing on the cake.

The Pearson’s always had an extensive list of friends who came for Christmas dinner, but like everything else at their house, since the fire, that list got smaller each year. Haddy McPherson, was new on the invite list this year. I had never heard of her or seen her face. Trust me; Haddy has one of those faces, and a crackly voice, you could never forget.

“Muerto”, he whispered.

My thoughts of the Pearson’s had been interrupted by a small voice that whispered to me the word “death”.

I looked down to see whose voice it was, to my surprise it was my boy Jake.

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Saturday, March 13, 2010

Part I: Adonia

“Merry Christmas”, Jake said to Sandy as he handed her a candy cane from the poorly lit and scantly decorated Christmas tree.

Christmas at the Pearson household was always quite odd – not only the guests but the food. I sat across the room from a woman who had a green knit hat on that looked like it had been through the washer too many times with a paper towel, it was covered in lint. Her face was shriveled like a prune and her brightly pink polished toes curled up from her open toe sandals she wore with nylons, her toenails matched the lip stick she wore. Her bright pink suit looked like she stole it from an unfashionable bride who scared her maid’s of honor into wearing the gaudy piece.

“Merry Christmas Adonia!”, Jake screamed in my ear as he handed me a chocolate Santa Claus.

I had been patiently waiting for the Pearson’s to announce dinner was ready, but it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. I sat there impatiently tapping my foot, and staring at the green knit hat wearing old lady. I started to peel away the paper that wrapped tightly around the chocolate Santa Claus. I had to eat something to take the edge off the hungry pains I had started feeling. I bite the chocolate, chewed and swallowed, when the taste hit me. The candy tasted partly of the paper in which it was wrapped, partly of hair oil, partly of the great unknown. My face must’ve shown the horrible taste I was experiencing, because as I looked up the old lady with the green hat was snickering.

“Like that candy huh Missy?”, she shouted from across the room. “Made it myself in the nursing home last night.”

I felt like vomiting, there was no telling what was in it and how many dirty old hands had touched it.

“Yes mam, very delicious”, I answered back.

“You’re a lousy liar Missy, ha ha ha”, she responded. “My name is Haddy C. McPherson, I live at Sunshine Valley Nursing Home on the East Side of town, what is your name Missy?”

Missy? If I could get the old bat to stop calling me Missy.

“Adonia, Adonia Prada is the name mam, nice to meet you”, I replied. “Sunshine Valley Nursing Home? I know the place, my dad used to live there. Nice place.”

“Nice place? Maybe for the blind and deaf, but not for this spring chickadee” replied Haddy.

I got up from my seat; I seriously needed to rinse my mouth out from the nasty chocolate Santa. As I walked past the kitchen I peeped in to see if it was any closer to dinner, but what caught my eye was seeing the Pearson’s in each other’s arms crying. I couldn’t tell whether their tears were of joy or sorrow, or whether they had ruined dinner. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to investigate, there was a rancid taste moving up my throat from my stomach.

500 words based on a sentence selected by Dive.